


i know i'll stay, right there with you

by wingsifer



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Let Elias Be A Soft Bastard, M/M, because it's what they deserve, elias makes it a little bit better, jon and elias have cats sorry i don't make the rules, jon is not having a good time reading statements, once again i am offering some soft jonelias in these trying time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsifer/pseuds/wingsifer
Summary: "Jon couldn’t put it off any longer. It had been exactly two weeks, three days, 7 hours, 27 minutes, and 39 seconds since he’d last pulled a statement out of a living person (thanks for that pointlessly specific information, Beholding) and Jon could feel the hunger deep in his core. It wasn’t like normal hunger, or even the nicotine cravings he’d had when he quit smoking. It was something deeper than that, as if he was missing something fundamental, like something essential to his being was missing."Jon is finding it hard to read statements. Elias offers comfort and support.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 58





	i know i'll stay, right there with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InquiryFoxtrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InquiryFoxtrot/gifts).



> This is for Will who asked for some Elias Helping Jon Through A Statement. Enjoy <3

Jon couldn’t put it off any longer. It had been exactly two weeks, three days, 7 hours, 27 minutes, and 39 seconds since he’d last pulled a statement out of a living person (thanks for that pointlessly specific information, Beholding) and Jon could feel the hunger deep in his core. It wasn’t like normal hunger, or even the nicotine cravings he’d had when he quit smoking. It was something deeper than that, as if he was missing something fundamental, like something essential to his being was missing. There was a solution, he knew, to the hunger, if he didn’t want to take a live victim. 

He was holding the statement right there, in his hands. It had to do with the Vast, he thought, someone drowning in a pool? It wouldn’t fill him up nearly as much, but it would do something to dull the edge. It should have been an easy choice, but the thought of reading another Dead Statement caused his stomach to churn and his throat briefly closed with nausea, causing him to choke for half a second. He could feel the words on the page drawing him in, but even his desire to know couldn’t overpower the dread in his chest and the dusty taste settling onto his tongue. It was like The Beholding couldn’t make up its mind regarding whether it wanted Jon to read a statement or not. 

With a frustrated sound that got caught in his too dry throat, Jon threw the statement down onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, mentally cursing his weakness and general ineptitude. He needed to read the statements. The alternatives were victimizing another innocent stranger, which Jon refused to do, or slowly wasting away, which Elias would never let happen (he’d force him to take a statement before that happened, a fact he’d made very clear to Jon). That left these dusty, old, stale statements. Jon stared down the statement once again before dropping his face into his hands. Weak. He really needed to just get this over with. 

He could almost hear the familiar sound of Elias’ fond, aggravated sigh. ‘Jonathan,’ the man in his imagination chided gently. He vividly pictured the slight tilt of his lips and the arch of one eyebrow. Far from the first time that day, Jon longed to be surrounded by the sharp scent of sandalwood and parchment and to feel the warm pressure of hands against his back. Jon allowed himself a brief moment to indulge in the fantasy before sighing and lifting his face out of his hands. He had work to do and daydreaming about Elias wasn’t going to make reading statements any easier. 

It was then that he was reminded of a memory, a moment where he had sought to Know something and had ended up sobbing into Elias’ arms with a massive headache, listening to Elias whisper soft words of reassurance to him. Thinking about Elias wasn’t going to help, but perhaps his actual physical presence would. Jon certainly would feel better about being The Beholding’s #1 food source with his partner’s arms around him and his lips at his temple. Yes, that sounded much nicer. 

Was Elias still at the Institute or had he left for home yet? Elias usually at least stopped by to let Jon know he was leaving when Jon made a habit of staying late at the Archives, if he didn’t just drag Jon home anyway, heedless of his Archivist's protests. It wasn’t that late, though, right? Right? Embarrassment seeped into him as he realized that he had absolutely no idea what time it was. The Beholding did not seem inclined to offer any information as to the time or the whereabouts of Jon’s partner (typical), so Jon fished his phone out of his pocket to check, pausing to smile at his lock screen as he did. 

The lock screen in question was a slightly blurry picture of a mildly disgruntled Elias with a fluffy black cat perched on his shoulder (The Watcher’s Meow) and a Russian blue in his arms (Sir Eye). Jon had sneaked this candid a couple months ago and he still didn’t know if Elias was aware of the photo’s existence (his bet would be yes because damn the all-seeing bastard). The time on the screen told him it was half past 10 PM, long after office hours, but there was still a definite possibility of Elias being in his office (honestly, Elias was almost as much of a workaholic as Jon was). Regardless, it wouldn’t hurt to check. After a brief moment of indecision, Jon snatched up the statement and his coat and left his office in search of his other half. 

\- - -

The door to Elias’ office was open when Jon arrived, so he walked in with a quiet ‘hey’ to announce his presence. Elias looked up from where he was frowning at his computer monitor, a soft smile replacing his dour expression that briefly caused Jon to forget why he’d come. Elias’ smiles, Jon thought idly, often had such effects on his focus and memory. 

“Hello, darling, is everything alright?” Elias made one final tap at his computer mouse before turning his attention to Jon. Jon could feel the weight of Elias’ full gaze on him, wrapping him tightly in a familiar warmth, and he let out a soft sigh. Elias, The Watcher, was constantly focused on dozens of tasks, watching a multitude of people go about their lives, but he always gave his full attention to Jon whenever he was around. It was one of the many things that Jon loved about him. 

“I’m fine,” was Jon’s instant response, a muscle reflex, a habit built from years of avoiding people’s surface-level concern and shallow pity. Elias simply gave him a disbelieving look, which Jon felt like he deserved. The same look that Jon had pictured in his mind just minutes ago. Jon hesitated for a moment longer, before mentally berating himself for his ridiculously concealing nature and caving into Elias’ grounding gaze.

“Ok, so perhaps I’m not fine,” Jon admitted, coming around the side of the desk so he could place a quick kiss on top of Elias’ head. Elias adored giving quick kisses to forehead, Jon ended up with one almost every morning before work and every evening when he came home, but since Jon was several inches shorter than his partner, it was often difficult to reciprocate in the same manner. So, he had taken to dropping kisses on top of Elias’ head whenever he found the other sitting down and within range of his lips. Elias hummed contentedly and reached forward to wrap an arm around Jon’s waist, pulling him closer and closing his eyes. For a moment, he looked at peace and Jon treasured the sight. Then Elias stilled. 

“Jonathan,” Elias said, staring at him with familiar concern that put a pang in Jon’s heart, “how long has it been since you took a statement?”

Jon sighed against Elias’ hair, stiffening a bit as guilt washed over him at the reminder. That WAS what Jon had come here to talk about, but he had been secretly hoping to avoid it as long as possible, to forget his troubles in the warmth of Elias’ arms and gaze. He sighed again. No, he couldn’t keep pushing it away. Even here with The Watcher’s Eyes on him, he still felt Beholding’s pressure curling within him, begging (ordering?) him to reach forward and suck the fear from everyone still inside the building. He shuddered and pulled back slightly, not enough to break away from Elias’ arm, but enough so that he could look down at Elias.

“Too long,” he admitted, torn between wanting to look away from The Watcher’s piercing judgement and wanting to maintain eye contact with Elias. Shame won out and Jon looked away, only to be pulled back into Elias’ gaze by a hand on his cheek.

“Jon,” Elias said flatly, eyes narrowing, and Jon winced slightly at that. Elias only ever called him by his full first name, Jonathan, or by an endearment (‘My Archivist’, being Jon’s personal favorite though he’d never admit it aloud). He only used ‘Jon’ when he was upset or irritated, returning to the distance the name implied when he felt threatened or overwhelmed. Elias’ face softened slightly and he lightly stroked the side of Jon’s face with his thumb in apology. “Dearest, it’s not good for you to avoid statements and you know this,” Elias chided and Jon hummed in reluctant acknowledgment. The taking of statements and Jon’s duties to Beholding had been the topic of many discussions now, about half of them ending in harsh words and raised voices. An outcome Jon was keen to avoid at this moment, so he said nothing. 

Elias sighed, the noise fond but tinged in annoyance, and stood up from his chair to pull Jon into a full embrace. His hand moved from Jon’s cheek to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls that had sprung free from Jon’s hastily made up ponytail. “Jana from Research is still here,” Elias murmured casually into his ear, but Jon saw it for what it was: an offer, “she had a rather interesting encounter with a moth-like humanoid as a teenager,” he continued in a calm low tone, the way one might speak to a startled dog or a skittish cat. Jon briefly considered being offended, but he was distracted by the sickening rush of excitement and hunger that flowed into him at those words. Beholding, ever helpful in regards to things that benefited it, supplied him with more specifics: Jana Siarven had been an employee of the Magnus Institute for 2 ½ years now and was currently at her desk on the second floor, debating whether to take casefile she had been working on home with her or not (Jon Knew that the casefile, a tall tale about the ghost of a dog haunting an old grocery store, was nothing but absolute bullshit, not worth the time of the Institute, but there was no way for Jana to be aware of that). 

Jon swallowed against the rioting emotions in him and shook his head firmly against Elias’ chest. No. No matter how much Beholding wanted the statement (the fear) of Ms. Jana Siarven, Jon was not going to take live statements unless he had to. He knew that Elias wasn’t particularly pleased with this decision of his but he also knew that he wasn’t going to push the issue any further unless it began to affect Jon’s health. 

“I was actually just about to read an old statement from the Archives, but...” Jon trailed off, his hands reaching up to fiddle with Elias’ coat lapels nervously. This was ridiculous, he told himself firmly. There was absolutely no reason whatsoever that he should be a nervous wreck about asking his partner of over a year (who was also a fellow Beholding avatar and therefore would understand to an extent what Jon was dealing with) for...emotional support. Lord, he even struggled to think the words. His own berating reassurance crumbled under the all-to-familiar weight of doubt.

Doubt that he could just reach out to Elias, doubt that Elias (or anyone for that matter) would care enough to want to support him. That he’s even worth the effort in the first place. Jon’s refusal to believe that people cared about him was one of the (many) reasons why he and Georgie hadn’t worked out, and it was the primary reason for his falling out with Tim before- well before everything had changed. His self-awareness did not help with the guilt or the doubt. If anything, it just made him feel worse about it, since he Knew it was happening and yet couldn’t find a way to make his mind stop coming up with nightmare scenarios. 

The worst part about it was that Jon Knew that Elias loved him. Knew in every possible way. Knew with every breath Elias took, with every word he spoke, with every smile he allowed past his lips, that he loved Jon with a depth and intensity that still took Jon’s breath away. Elias loved His Archivist. And still, despite all his Knowing, Jon still found it difficult to place his trust, place all he was, into Elias’ hands.

Elias is patient with his lover, rubbing soothing circles into Jon’s back and humming a soft, melody-less tune under his breath as he waited for his Archivist to find his words. Waiting. Always waiting for Jon.

“I was, well that is to say I was wondering- well I was hoping that...hm, would you mind, could you-” Jon struggled with the words, knowing what he wanted to say but not not knowing quite how to ask, before taking in a sharp breath and starting again.  
“Would you stay with me while I read this statement, please?” Jon finally asked, refusing to lift his head from Elias’ chest. 

It is truthful and it is what he meant to say, but not entirely. What he really means is ‘Will you stay? Will you hold me and keep looking at me like that, like you love me? Like I matter? Like you want me here, with you?’ That is what he meant, but not what he said. Jon thinks Elias will understand anyways. He’s so wonderfully clever like that, after all. 

Elias let out a low chuckle and Jon was almost offended for a moment, jerking his head up to pin a suspicious glare on Elias, until he saw the look on Elias’ face: soft and adoring and full of love. Oh, well that was ok then. He relaxed against Elias’ chest again only to fall forward slightly as Elias pulled gently away from him. Jon shot another annoyed glance up at Elias, but before he could complain, Elias gently took his hand and led him to the mostly decorative sofa that sat on the other side of Elias’ office. 

The faint pressure of a hand on his back is enough for Jon to settle down onto the coach, watching as Elias gives his hand a squeeze before going over to a cabinet and pulling out a soft fleece blanket. He gently lays the blanket over Jon, eliciting a small smile from the man now covered in fluff, and settles down on the coach next for him. Immediately, Jon reaches for him and Elias obliges, rearranging them so that Jons’ side is curled up against Elias’ chest, his legs bent so his ankles bump up against Elias’ thighs. Jon feels safe and cared for with one of Elias’ hands around him and the other stroking through his hair, pulling the hair tie out and combing through the curly strands individually. 

Elias leans down to press a lingering kiss to Jon’s cheek, one that Jon leans into, before pulling away and lightly tapping the statement that was still clutched in Jon’s hand. “Alright, angel, it’s time. Allow yourself to become one with Beholding. It’s what you were always meant to do, my Archivist,” he whispers the words against Jon’s temple, soft and reverential like a prayer. Jon took a deep breath, leaning heavily against Elias. He could do this, if not for himself then for Elias. Still...He looked to Elias again, a silent request for more. Elias smiled at him (Jon thought, slightly dazed, that he would be able to do just about anything when Elias smiled at him like that) and gave him another kiss, this one pressed lightly above his jaw, “I know it hurts, angel, but I know you can do it. I believe in you, my Archivist.” 

Elias believed in him. He Knew this to be true, but hearing it spoken aloud, especially in that feather soft tone, sent a jolt of pride and love through him. Clearing his throat with a cough, he began to speak the Words, losing himself in the terrifying and wonderful Seeing of Beholding and the Watching of Elias.

“Statement Begins”.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic #2!!! I want to thank all of gbj this is for y'all because I love y'all! I really only can write because I know that you will love and support everything I do and it fills my heart with SEROTONIN. Also, for everyone else in clowntown 2.0 for putting up with my JonElias bullshit and reading my fics anyway because you love me I appreciate y'all! 
> 
> Shout-Out to Jana (Siarven) for letting me use her name for Random Institute Employee #1 I love her very much and she's very cool!
> 
> If you want to chat about this fic or anything tma related with me, you can find me on twitter @wingsifer or on discord @ lesbianelf#1069 :):):)


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